


Heavy Metal Lover, Part 1

by skivvysupreme



Series: The Cuffed Verse [4]
Category: Glee
Genre: Cheerio Blaine, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Skank Kurt Hummel, Skank Quinn Fabray
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-02-26
Packaged: 2018-03-15 08:21:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3440225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skivvysupreme/pseuds/skivvysupreme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Skank!Kurt and Cheerio!Blaine head to Puck's party.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heavy Metal Lover, Part 1

Kurt shouldn’t snoop around in Blaine’s room. He knows he shouldn’t.

He sits at the end of Blaine’s bed, slowly rubbing his palms over the artfully distressed holes in his jeans to keep his hands occupied. He’s a curious kitten and there are so many interesting _things_ on Blaine’s shelves. It doesn’t help that, as he looks around, the amount of sense Blaine makes just deteriorates further and further.

Robots. Polo. Antique cameras. A book of sheet music from Rent. And it’s all wrapped in dark maple wood and leather and stripes and forest green, a classically masculine palette belonging to the cheer captain slash glee club star and—

Are those… _boxing gloves?_

Kurt stares at them, thick black leather hanging from a hook on the back of Blaine’s closet door. The more he learns, the less he knows, and it only makes him crave Blaine’s company that much more. As he’s looking at the gloves, the door opens, and Blaine’s wet, naked chest moves straight into Kurt’s eye line. His curls are dripping and the towel around his waist sits snug under his soft lower belly.

“You box?” Kurt asks, forcing his gaze upwards and trying to ignore the way his throat has suddenly gone dry.

Blaine looks confused for a second, then notices the gloves moving against the back of the door. He reaches over and stops them swinging with a little frown on his face. “Yeah. Took it up a couple of years ago.”

"That explains why your arms look like that,” Kurt blurts.

_Oh my god, I need to calm down, I need to calm down, like, YESTERDAY—_

“Uh, thank you,” Blaine chuckles, ducking his head and blushing. That gesture is quickly becoming one of Kurt’s favorites.

He’s developing favorite mannerisms, for fuck’s sake. Kurt can’t even see the top of the rabbit hole anymore.

Blaine tosses his head towards his dresser. “I’m just gonna—um, I need clothes.”

“Do you?”

 _Kurt Hummel, you need to fucking STOP, he has had the shittiest day, what the hell is wrong_ _with you?_

Blaine glances somewhere to his left with his grin all crooked like he’s trying not to laugh. “Well, I know we’ve set a precedent for losing clothes around each other, but I would like to go to this party without getting arrested,” he says, leveling Kurt with a flirty look as he walks over to his dresser and opens the top shelf.

Kurt notices how much more relaxed Blaine seems, now that there’s a shower, a couple of hours, and some physical distance from this afternoon’s slushy incident. His eyes follow a drop of water from the wet curls at the base of Blaine’s neck all the way down until it disappears in his towel. “It’s a party at Puck’s house. There’s no guarantee you won’t get arrested.”

Blaine crosses the room to his open closet with a pair of blue underwear bunched in his hand. “Have you?”

“Yes.”

Blaine’s eyebrows shoot up as he emerges from the rack in his closet and stares at Kurt. He’s holding a navy polo and a bright red pair of pants. “Wait, really? What—“

“I remember those,” Kurt says, cutting Blaine off. His bottom lip slides between his teeth as he cocks his head at the red pants. He can picture it like it was yesterday.

_The boy in obnoxious yellow Ray-Bans slides down the steel bannister and lands on the stairs below. Red pants hug his ass and bare his ankles as he leaps down a few more steps and launches into song, his rich, sweet tenor carrying over the courtyard._

_Kurt’s lit cigarette nearly falls into his lap as his mouth drops open._

_The boy is surrounded by Cheerios and dancing like a complete dork, but his hips won’t stop moving and he has the most charming smile Kurt has ever seen. He’s fucking adorable._

_Quinn effectively kills the exuberant mood by lighting the glee club’s piano on fire with her discarded cigarette. She saunters down the steps and doesn’t look back._

_Even as Kurt follows her away from the scene, his gaze is pointed in the glee club’s direction. Conveniently, it looks as though he’s watching the fire like everyone else. In reality, he can’t take his eyes off the new boy, who stands behind the flaming piano with his lips parted and his chest heaving under his tight black polo, shocked and trying to catch his breath after his performance._

It was the first time Kurt saw Blaine Anderson, and he hasn’t stopped looking since.

“You remember my pants?” Blaine asks, laughing but clearly confused.

“I mean… I’ve seen you around in them. They look good on you. I don’t know that everyone could pull those off.”

“Well, thank you, Kurt. Jeez, I don’t know what to do with all these compliments…”

There’s the blush again. It’s like Blaine honestly doesn’t know how attractive he is. Kurt can’t decide if that makes Blaine more dangerous or less dangerous, but he grins and shrugs, rolling his eyes like it’s nothing.

*****

“Do you go to a lot of parties?” Kurt asks, eyeing the way Blaine’s drumming his fingers against his legs as they walk down the street towards Puck’s house. Kurt’s car is parked a few blocks away (“I don’t want my license plate anywhere near this,” Kurt said) and they’ve mostly been walking in companionable silence.

“Not really. We had small parties at my old school, but nothing too wild since we were always in the dorms.”

“No crazy slumber parties, then?”

“Haha, no. We were well-behaved.”

Kurt hums. “Dalton Academy. I thought about going there, once upon a time.”

Blaine tilts his head and narrows his eyes. “Really? I don’t know if I can picture it. You’re so… you.” Kurt raises an eyebrow and Blaine goes on, “Pink hair and a nose ring with a Dalton blazer? I can’t see you letting all that style go to waste every day.”

Kurt is aware that he wouldn’t have pink hair and a nose ring if he’d transferred to Dalton back then, but he just smiles at the flattery and says, “I like to think I would have stood out anyway.”

“You would have,” Blaine replies without hesitation, his eyes flitting across Kurt’s face, “but Dalton’s about tradition and blending in. You should never have to do that, your spark’s too bright.”

Kurt ignores the compliment and zeroes in on the implication. “You think yours isn’t?”

Blaine shrugs and looks down at himself. “Standing out, not caring what people think… it takes courage.”

“So does starting over, and you did that.”

“Starting over? I ran, Kurt.”

“To-may-to, to-mah-to.”

And then they’re standing in front of Puck’s house and they’re both looking at each other, _really looking_ , and Kurt isn’t sure exactly when the air turned so serious, but he can feel that it has. He sees a torrent of questions building behind the expressive eyes staring back at him, and he knows there are no fewer questions on the tip of his own tongue.

Kurt remembers what he told Blaine last night, _I’m keeping you_ , and only now is the insanity of the situation hitting him. They’ve been talking for one day and Blaine’s already under his skin. And it’s not just the obvious attraction; it’s the fact that there are people who need to be _dealt with_ for hurting him, because Kurt does not tolerate people hurting those he cares about.

Suddenly, that includes Blaine.

It doesn’t scare Kurt that he’s falling so fast. What scares him is that he jumped without a second thought—without any thought, really. He's been so careful to protect himself and not let anything or anyone get to him, but he's so drawn to Blaine that he can’t help himself, and it feels like he’s handed control to someone who isn’t even trying to hang onto it. Blaine hasn’t hesitated at all. He’s being just as reckless with his heart. He’s already been abused for it, just like Kurt has, and he’s still here with his heart on his sleeve. And maybe that’s just how Blaine is, but Kurt doesn’t do things like this.

“Kurt? Are you okay?”

He blinks. “What?”

Blaine steps closer and puts a hand on Kurt’s arm. “You just… you looked really scared of something, just now.”

Kurt takes a deep breath and slides his arm so that he can hold Blaine’s hand. He feels a squeeze, so he squeezes back, and the panic fades a little. “I’m fine.”

Blaine’s still looking at him funny, so Kurt nods towards the house and says, “We’re here. Ready?”

*

Inside, Puck’s house is a little smoky and full of people Blaine has never seen before. He’s fairly sure most of them aren’t McKinley students. It isn’t as dark as he expected, and as he follows Kurt through the hallway, several heads turn in his direction. Most of them nod or wave at Kurt, but are confused at the sight of Blaine and look him up and down.

“I feel like Harry Potter when the Goblet of Fire spat out his name,” he says to Kurt, self-consciously adjusting his red- and navy-striped bowtie.

Kurt snorts and glances back at Blaine. “Oh my god.”

Blaine’s being serious, but he’s managed to make Kurt smile after that weird mood he was in outside, so Blaine counts it as a win.

They reach the kitchen, where Puck is mixing drinks on an island countertop crowded with bottles. The music playing from the living room speakers is loud, even in here, and Quinn holds a red cup close to her face as she sways with the music. It’s surprisingly poppy, for a party at Puck’s house.

“Is this Rihanna?”

Puck looks up at the sound of Blaine’s voice and immediately hands him the rum and Coke he’s just finished. “Hey, bros! Glad you made it. And yeah, I always let the girls pick the music. It gets them dancing. Parties where girls don’t dance usually suck ass.” He picks up another cup and holds it out for Kurt. “Usual tequila?”

Kurt glances at the face Blaine makes when he smells his drink and says, “Maybe just a shot for now?”

“ _Yesss_ , do a shot with us, Kurt!” Brittany yells as she runs into the kitchen, Santana following behind her.

Santana looks from Blaine to Kurt, and back again, then smiles in a way that’s more amused than friendly. “Well, isn’t this a _treat_ ,” she says. “Someone’s finally getting into Lady Hummel’s pants, and it’s the hobbit who got lost on his incredible journey to Brooks Brothers.”

“Always great to see you, Santana,” Kurt says, watching her prepare the shots.

She hands one to Brittany and one to Kurt, and they do the shots quickly, licking salt off the sides of their hands and sucking on bright green lime wedges. Blaine tries not to pay too much attention to the way Kurt’s lips look around the fruit.

The music switches to a new song, and when the lyrics kick in, Brittany leans over to Santana and purrs along. _“I want your whiskey mouth all over my blonde south...”_

Santana laughs and grabs Brittany’s hand, pulling her towards the living room to dance, but Brittany also grabs Kurt, who then grabs Quinn.

“Be nice to him, Puckerman!” Kurt yells over his shoulder, then raises his eyebrows at Blaine.

Puck, thoroughly offended, turns to Blaine and demands, “Have I ever been mean to you?”

Blaine leans back a little and answers no, then grins at Kurt and mouths, _“I’m okay. Go.”_

Kurt and the girls move into the center of the living room, and Brittany and Santana immediately sandwich him; Brittany is at Kurt’s back, Santana’s at his front, facing away, and Quinn’s pressed back-to-front against Santana. All four of them are writhing and grinding to the beat with hands on each other’s hips or waists.

“I love when they do this,” Puck sighs, taking a sip of his drink and nudging Blaine with his elbow. When Blaine just narrows his eyes, Puck adds, “And I guess Kurt’s probably hot, too. Right? I mean, he’s a pretty dude. If I was into guys, I’d like him.”

Puck’s attempt at conversation, or at being a wingman or whatever, is abysmal, but it _is_ an attempt, so Blaine smiles and says, “Yeah, I can’t see why you wouldn’t. He’s beautiful.”

Brittany says something into Kurt’s ear, and he rolls his eyes, grinning that gorgeous smile of his. She reaches around him and puts her hand on Santana’s arm just as Quinn turns to face them.

“So, you’re gonna be cool to him, right? Kurt’s my boy and I don’t wanna have to kick your ass.”

Blaine glances back at Puck and laughs, but Puck’s expression is the picture of stern conviction. “I—of course,” he answers, caught off-guard by the sudden intensity.

“I mean it, Anderson. He’s a badass and he can take care of himself, but you gotta treat him right. Shit went down last year and it sucked. He’s a cool dude but people have been assholes to him.”

Blaine looks over at the living room. Kurt has already separated from the girls, and he dances on his own, off to the side, while they dance in a little circle nearby. His eyes are closed, his nose ring catching the light when he turns in place. He runs a hand through his hair, pushing errant locks off his forehead as he swivels his hips, and his rolled-up sleeves go tight around the tops of his biceps as he stretches his arms above his head.

Kurt is the hottest boy Blaine has ever seen.

“I swear, Puck. I would never do anything to hurt him.”

Blaine doesn’t look back at Puck for approval as he abandons his drink on the kitchen counter and makes his way towards the living room. He weaves through the people stationed here and there on his way to Kurt, and before he even reaches him, Kurt’s bright blue eyes slide open and land on Blaine, as if he could feel Blaine entering his orbit.

Or, as if he’s been waiting for Blaine to join him.

Blaine starts shaking his hips as he gets closer, not sure if he should crowd Kurt’s space right away. His question is answered as Kurt throws his arms over Blaine’s shoulders and shimmies closer.

He glances around to see if anyone’s paying attention to them, but Kurt leans in and brushes his lips over Blaine’s ear: “No one cares.”

Blaine puts his hands on Kurt’s waist, then slides them a little further so he can squeeze his fingertips into the small of Kurt’s back. He feels a shiver go up Kurt’s spine.

Kurt tips his face closer and asks, “Want to try this morning’s kiss again?”

A grin spreads across Blaine’s face. Apparently, the moment it takes to do so is a moment too long for Kurt, because his arms tighten around Blaine’s shoulders and he groans, “Fucking _kiss me_ , Ander— _mmm_ …“

Blaine takes his cue and pulls Kurt close, pressing their lips and chests together as he wraps his arms all the way around Kurt’s waist. He feels Kurt’s body tense, and then relax against him as he sinks into the hold and kisses back. The music pulses around them, the speakers slightly too loud for comfort, and Blaine can feel the bass like it’s thumping out of his own heart.

Blaine hopes the world ends before this kiss does. He pulls his arms up to hold Kurt’s back, his palms flat over the tops of Kurt’s shoulder blades to push Kurt closer, _closer—_

Kurt breaks away then, but he keeps their foreheads together, his hot breath puffing across Blaine’s face. That scared look is back, but he also kind of looks like he wants to laugh.

“Kurt?” He drops a tiny little kiss to Kurt’s upper lip.

And Kurt does laugh then, in giddy, jerky little giggles that Blaine can feel against his chest.

Blaine takes both of his hands and guides Kurt back to the kitchen, where it’s quieter and Puck has disappeared. “Did that shot get you drunk?” He can see the pink in Kurt’s cheeks under the kitchen lights, and that same flush is creeping up from the neckline of Kurt’s black t-shirt.

Kurt shakes his head and licks his lips, then runs a finger over Blaine’s bowtie. “No, I’m just… It’s unrelated, but I do kind of feel like I need a cigarette.”

“Can I suggest an alternative?” Blaine asks, watching Kurt’s lips.

Kurt tilts his head, tugging a little on the bowtie— _Jesus Christ, he is so seductive without meaning to be—_ and waits.

“Would Puck mind if we borrowed his room?”

TBC


End file.
